


The Locked Room

by ArtfulDoodler



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime), Digimon Adventure, Sailor Moon
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Mystery, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtfulDoodler/pseuds/ArtfulDoodler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usagi's dream holiday became a sinister nightmare...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Locked Room

The sun beamed on to the deck and Usagi sighed. This is the life, she muttered to her brother, Shingo, as they lazed on their sunbeds.

Dad had been promoted, and their parents had treated them to a Caribbean cruise. Two days after they'd boarded, they were having an amazing time.

After dinner, Shingo, nine, and 14-year-old Usagi set out to explore the rest of the ship. They discovered a luxury restaurant on the top deck. "We should get Mom and Dad to bring us here one night," Usagi grinned, turning to Shingo but Shingo was gone.

Typical, she thought - Shingo was always wandering off. A natural explorer their dad called him.

Restaurants - how dull, Shingo had thought as he headed off in another direction to his sister. It wasn't long before he reached a corridor which looked like it hadn't been visited in decades.

"Perfect," he whispered to himself, making his way silently down the corridor. But all the doors were shut. Shingo had just begun to lost interest when he noticed an open door and peered round it.

No-one seemed to be staying there. No clothes, newspapers, suitcases. There was, however, a distinctive smell. It was oddly like his grandmothers perfume - an acrid, rosy scent which aggravated his nose.

"Have you come to play?" said a croaky voice behind him.

Without turning to find out who'd asked this odd question, Shingo moved towards the door. But it slammed shut. Slowly, he turned around, to see a craggy old woman. As he felt the panic rise, she smiled.

Usagi began retracting her footsteps along the vast, silent corridors, searching for her brother. Where was he?

"I always imagined having a little boy like you," the old woman said, smiling creepily as she sat down on the old, oak bed. Shingo stood, motionless, by the door.

"I wanted to call him Shingo. But when my husband realised that having a child was all I married him for, he down in a terrible rage and murdered me on our wedding night. A hundred years ago. In this very room."

After searching the ship a number of times, Usagi tore into the restaurant where her parents were sitting. She began to sob, gushing out the news of Shingo's absence. All she could see in her mind was her brother disappearing under the deep, dark, watery surface that surrounded the boat.

Soon, guests were being questioned throughout the ship, and staff was inspecting every potential hiding place, every nook and cranny that could possibly conceal a nine-year-old boy.

But no-one had noticed the locked room - or knew about the games that the old woman loved to play.

"Now that I've found a son, we can play here forever," exclaimed the old woman, rising from the bed. Shingo grasped the door handle desperately. He pulled, but his hands were sweaty and slippery. The door was locked there was no escape.

"You can't leave now. You're my boy, my Shingo." She walked towards him slowly. Shingo banged his fists on the door, scratching the wood with his fingernails.

"Help! Please! Let me out!" Delirious, he pressed his weight against the door, trying to force it open.

The old woman grabbed hold of him, paralysing his arms and legs. "Don't fight it; you have a new life now." Shingo could smell the hazy, rose perfume as she whispered: "We can play here. Forever."

Back at their local church in Azabu Juuban, Usagi stood looking blankly at the empty coffin. Today was her brother's funeral, except there was no body to be buried. Shingo Tsukino had been declared dead three weeks ago. Drowned, they had said, but Usagi wasn't convinced. She still had strange nightmares to do with Shingo's death.

Meanwhile, over in Odaiba, T.K. Takaishi, aged 8, was packing to go away with his mom on a cruise to the Caribbean. He loved holidays, but his favourite part was always discovering secret places and hangouts. A natural explorer, his mom called him.


End file.
